A/N:I got back together with my wife! YAY! I'll spare you all the semantics of this event; just know that it's awesome and I'm happy and ...yay! Now, let's talk about the reason you're here… the story!

Yup, the last chapter was named after Carmelita's badge number. Now we begin with Act 4, The Encore Dance. This is where Triumph will happen, the tired crew may falter in their routine steps and yet just one encore dance is never enough, so it will leave the crowd wanting more (hopefully). I have a few twisted ideas on how to end this story when I finally get there. Figuring out how to employ all these methods at once will be the tricky part because I like to go "all out".

Now with only the heroes, Clockwerk and The Sire left, I think it will be fairly easy to keep track of things, here. The only loose end with no formula behind the equation is Donovan Loupe. And what about Bentley's Time Machine that he mentions wanting to work on at the end of Sly3? Only time itself will tell what happens there.

For now, we enter into act 4. Enjoy!

Act 4: The Encore Dance

Chapter 16: "Nothing More Than An Emotional Moment."

Carmelita turned back to the body on the ground and shot it one more time, adding a swift kick. Sly blinked. How could he not?Here she was, Carmelita Fox; standing there with her guns. She was awake and she saved his life. Bentley's truck was sitting there and Carmelita was standing there with a smoking gun in her paw.

Sly couldn't think of anything else to say, other than, "Carmelita… My hero!" He gave her a grin, then cut his eyes over to Bentley with the intention of making light of this situation, regardless of Clockwerk getting away. "Uh, so… I don't think any of us have eaten in nearly two days. Let's say we grab some pizza and start bird hunting."

Carmelita, like Bentley, had a sort of dumbfounded look on her face but after a moment of thinking about it, she had to agree. "First order of business is personal survival. The group should be fed while we look for a way to determine where Clockwerk is."

Bentley hooked a thumb at the bed of the truck and both Sly and Carmelita climbed in. Normally, this is where he got jumpy, scolded them and had an anxiety attack. But to Sly's surprise, he just shook his head with a sort of grin as though he were proud of himself. Fact of the matter: he was proud of himself.

The small square window in the back of the cab was still open and Bentley used it to talk to them. "Fortunately the Clockwerk chip was designed to run an Interpol Communications Server as a way to keep it out of public hands en route to Prague. It was a processor designed to link hand held digital assistants for Interpol agents and was used to connect high power communications devices. So, finding Clockwerk should be as easy as figuring out what these Interpol computer frequencies are operating on then we can steal an Interpol prototype handheld device used to test the original router. Clockwerk, no matter what his location is, will show up as LYON FRANCE: HOME BASE. Finding him will be too easy."

"That's devious and, quite frankly, I'm liking it already," Sly said as the truck began to pick up speed.

"However!" Bentley chuckled softly, adding, "I built the replacement that was never detected. Guess what? That processor sent me information the other day; I already know the frequencies so I've already gone through the effort of tracking Clockwerk. The bad new is… He headed north, into Russia. There's only one thing I can think of in Russia and Donovan Loupe guessed it without even giving it another thought."

Sly's grin disappeared. His eyes shifted and a frown marred his normally calm, masculine features. "Kra'Karov Volcano. I thought that place was trashed and fell victim to vandalism and was crumbling from disuse?"

"That is correct," Bentley said, driving Sly and Carmelita through the snowstorm, heading out of town, to meet up with Penelope and Murray. "However; because Clockwerk killed his creator who was planning to kill The Sire… Clockwerk has that much more leverage to get The Sire to help him out. They're probably planning a mutual friendship right now."

Carmelita interjected, "If this Steven guy was so smart like he claimed to be, why didn't he see this coming and why did he lose control back there? It seems really odd and doesn't fit his criminal profile. He's normally a master of psychology and he was even a fantastic chess player. He should have seen this coming and planned for it."

Sly shrugged thoughtfully. "Personally, I'm glad he's gone," Cooper mused thoughtfully. "We can't all have good days and I think his bad day just caught up with him. Even if it doesn't make sense, we both saw him die and that's the end of Clockwerk's creator. Although," Sly paused, pondering something for a moment.

"What is it?" Bentley asked.

Sly glanced at Carmelita then looked back to Bentley, who was up front, driving. "He was cut up by lasers but didn't bleed a drop. Why is that? Was he bionic, maybe?"

Bentley shook his head slowly. "Lasers cauterize flesh. He was cut in half but the wounds were instantly sealed… Melted shut, if you will. He wouldn't have bled. We snuck up on him adding the finishing touches to Clockwerk and I'm the reason Clockwerk got his HateChip back. I didn't even recognize it against my own work."

"Don't be so hard on yourself," Sly said, leaning in through the window to pat Bentley's shell, on the right side of the turtle's neck. "You did good and you'll do good again, when we shut that bird down."

"We could go back to my lab in France and I could make some adjustments to my Time Machine," Bentley suggested.

"Let's not play with time unless we have to," Sly said, shaking his head thoughtfully. "I don't believe in paradoxes and temporal anomalies and all that weird jazz but at the same time, I can't help but think what else could go wrong if we tried to do things over. We all got out alive and nearly all the bad guys are dead. Who could ask for anything more? It's progress that we've made today."

"Well, I suppose you're right. We're all alive," Bentley agreed. He then allowed for a slight smile to creep over his face, which Sly could see in the rearview mirror. "I think you'll be pleased with my next plan of action."

"Lay it on me," Sly said.

"Last month's issue of Popular Science Magazine was done on a new technology that is still in a developmental stage," Bentley explained. "There's a particle phase inducer that rearranges matter. One blast of that ray would deconstruct the molecular atoms of which Clockwerk is physically erected. These very molecules, which he is comprised of, would be transformed into antimatter. The end result would be the only way to ensure we could eradicate our target. The antimatter stage lasts for a fraction of a second. It's akin to lifting up a rug and sweeping the dust under it, then laying it back down and saying that the room is clean."

Before Sly could ask, Carmelita sat up, her ears perked. "You're not going to steal government property. Besides, it's impossible and we don't need the military coming after you guys with a license to kill you, sighting terrorism. Only a terrorist would want such a weapon and anyone who steals it would be seen as a terrorist. Create a new plan."

"I have no idea what you just said, Bentley," Sly added, glancing over at Carmelita before looking back towards the window in the back of the pickup truck. "But Carmelita's right. Stealing a one-of-a-kind prototype weapon from a government facility is pretty risky and we're not bullet proof. Plus it would take weeks or even months of planning to nab it. By then, Clockwerk would be at full power, attacking us."

"Only America would come up with such a destructive weapon, anyhow," Bentley mumbled. "We could always steal documents and replace them with fraud intelligence work to make Clockwerk an enemy-number-one of multiple UN governments. They could bomb him and the whole Volcano."

"Something that doesn't involve politics, please," Sly half chuckled. "We've got to act soon. Is there any way we can force that Volcano to erupt, so we can force him out of it?"

Bentley blinked. "That's … that's brilliant! Why didn't I think of it sooner? That's genius, Sly! There is a chemical research facility known as Core Tech Industries in that area of Russia. We could obtain some powerful chemicals with the help of Penelope and mix that with an artifact on display at a historical museum outside of Moscow. The pearls of destruction are on display there.

"They were used thousands of years ago by an unknown creator, to cause massive explosions because they were pearls formed around a grain of thorium fused with tellurium, which has a rediculous half-life. Using the chemicals to melt the coating shell of the pearl, down to its center and at least one pearl from that display and then mixing them together… We could easily drop one into the Volcano and watch it blow its top!" Bentley just grinned. "Thank you, Sly. That was a brilliant idea."

Carmelita blinked, glancing at Sly then looking back to Bentley. "Will you stop plotting to steal things? Besides, you can't steal something from a museum! Sly died in my first dream, last week. You and he were going to steal something in a museum and Clockwerk smashed in the ceiling. The Chandelier crashed to the ground and it killed Sly. Besides, it's stealing. We can do this legally if you just think of something else!"

"We have no time, Carmelita. There only needs to be one pearl," Sly reasoned.

"No! Stop talking about stealing things! I'm serious, Ringtail!" Carmelita shouted, narrowing her eyes and tightening her paws into fists.

"Now just relax, Carmelita," Sly said, holding a paw out.

"If you can name one good thing that you've ever stolen, that has benefited the good guys, I'll go so far as to shut up until it's all over," Carmelita snapped.

Bentley coughed. The vixen lifted her eyes to him, staring at him in the rearview mirror with metaphorical daggers in her eyes. Bentley almost blushed, cowering at her intense glare. After a moment to pull some courage together, he said, "On my way out of France, I used Penelope's help with an RC Chopper and we broke into an Interpol office in Lyon. And, uh, well… you know, there was a three hour layover time when switching trains, so we had some time on our hands, you know?"

"Get to the point," Carmelita grumbled, glowering at him.

"We stole all the documentation on your file, so the case against you is empty and the computer archives were all erased. You were about to go onto their public enemy status list. The Sire was going to paint you as a terrorist trying to assassinate him and you were also going to be charged with the murder of Donovan Loupe and the three of us, assuming we didn't survive, back in that bank. So, by stealing all that stuff, we cleared your name, Inspector."

Carmelita's jaw went slack and she blinked in disbelief. "You did that for me?"

Bentley gave a half shrug. "Well, I mean… you know; you're still suspended, but you're certainly not an enemy of Interpol. The posters were even done up. They weren't printed yet, but the entire smear campaign was in that file folder and on the computer systems. The morning secretary would have taken the information and moved you to official fugitive status but now that we stole all the information and cleaned up behind ourselves, you're just a good cop on suspension status."

"You did that for me?" Carmelita asked again. "You really stole stuff just to keep my career intact? Why?"

"Because," Sly replied quickly, before Bentley could say anything. "We steal from the deserving, the bad guys and those who are in the wrong. Stealing from criminals isn't a crime. But stealing from criminals who masquerade as law abiding citizens is what keeps getting us on your bad side."

"Let's change the subject," Carmelita said with a frustrated sigh. "I'm on suspension and I can't stop you from stealing these pearls or those chemicals. I have no authority to make an arrest and such a loophole would guarantee that any jury would find you innocent because the police didn't follow proper procedure if I even tried to arrest you.

"Police Officers use a 'chain of evidence' and a 'routine policy' to ensure that justice is properly served. Arresting you while under suspension doesn't get me my job back; it gets you off the hook when the judge throws the case out of court." Carmelita paused for a moment. "Criminals," She muttered at the end of her statement.

"Why thank you. Your compliment does so placate my humble ego," Bentley said. Sly gave the turtle a grin as it wasn't very often that Bentley said something witty or clever. Bentley saw the grin in his rearview mirror and offered one in return. "Sorry, Inspector Fox. You can either help us stop Clockwerk or you'll only be slowing us down. But I won't ask you to steal anything because that would jeopardize your career and that would mean that I wasted my time trying to clear your name, the other day. But you can still help us."

"I've done it before, twice, concerning Clockwerk," Carmelita mused, quietly. "You do what you have to do and I'll agree to a truce. We work together until Clockwerk is in pieces. Hopefully this third time will be the charm and we'll be rid of Clockwerk for good! Now, let's do whatever it is we have to do to get him!"

The pickup truck rolled to a stop adjacent to a large snow-covered object. It resembled the boxiness of a trash dumpster, but it was slightly longer. Bentley knew what it was from a glance and so did Carmelita. It was a tank, covered in snow with a tarp over it, to create a long boxy shape, as to keep the contours of the gun barrel from giving away its figure. Sly turned to Carmelita and gave her a wan grin. He, too, knew it was the tank Murray 'borrowed'.

The three of them climbed out of the truck as Penelope approached from an Alley door. "Hey guys," She greeted, wearing a well-insulated mercenary jacket with different patches sewn over it. It was only logical to assume that it had been found in the tank. She pulled a small remote out of the pocket. "I have something to show you guys. I'm only half-finished and require Bentley's help in the matter."

"This had better be good," Carmelita said, still a bit put off from the fact that Sly was about to steal again. Penelope gave a nod and mashed a small black button on the control box in her paw. The tarp on the tank flipped off, making it obvious that the snow covering it was fake and square shaped, glued to the top of the tarp.

"I did some modifications but I'm not finished yet; I had a lot of nervous energy, worrying if you guys would make it back okay," Penelope admitted with a slight shrug. The tank was sitting directly in front of a rollup door in an alley, besides an abandoned warehouse. As soon as the molded square-shaped tarp was pulled off the tank, the roll up door began to open. Murray was inside, pulling on a chain, until the door was all the way up. "Let's get this thing inside, so we can finish it. I left it out here, as a landmark to help you find us. Let's hurry! I still have more modifications to make!"

"What are we doing to this thing?" Sly asked, approaching the tank. He opened the hatch for Penelope, who climbed up the side and slid into the entrance. "And how will it help us fight Clockwerk if he stays in Russia?"

"By the time Bentley and I finish this thing," the mouse said with a grin of promise, "It's going to be able to fly, hover, and fight Clockwerk, wherever that monster goes! We'd need way more than just one to beat him but it will keep him busy while we get the prototype cannon ready."

"We're scratching that plan," Bentley told her with a frown. "Sly and Carmelita are convinced that it would take too long to work out a plan necessary for success. They also think that it would get the military after us if we even breathe wrong. We're considering new options but haven't chosen something that sits well with everyone, here."

Penelope frowned. Murray tilted his head. The alley went silent. Carmelita sighed in frustration. "Okay, Sly. I won't stop you and your gang from obtaining those pearls and those chemicals. Just be careful. You're talking about creating a low-yield nuclear implosion to blow up a volcano. I'm not stupid: It's dangerous. I'm not kidding, Ringtail."

"Let the dream-team worry about the finer details," Sly said, motioning to Bentley and the mouse that was getting up into the tank. Immediately following his comment, the tank engine started and slowly the machine began to back into the warehouse. Once it was inside, Murray used one hand to gesture everyone inside, holding the chain in his other hand. Once everyone was in, he released the chain and the rolling door quickly slammed shut.

The hippo tied the chain into a sloppy square-knot around a cast iron peg coming out of the wall adjacent to the rolling door, on the inside. Once secure, the door was given a slight push to test the chain. The door didn't budge. Murray, satisfied with himself, turned back to the rest of the group, facing the tank. He was eager to drive it once it was converted into a flying machine.

The raccoon Master Thief just frowned, tapping his lower lip with a finger. "How do we fuel this thing? We don't have enough gas to make it to Russia and I'd like to be undetected. That means we can't just roll up to a filling station. What're our options, here?" Sly asked.

"I'm thinking I could make a chemical fuel but," Bentley paused, tilting his head just slightly before continuing his thought. He finally told them, "Under the consideration of those pearls, I might try using the core of a pearl or two to power the tank but I'd have to rebuild the engine and alternator. That's the bad news. The good news is that the tank's power cell longevity would ensure no need to refuel even if we ran it constantly for a solid month."

Carmelita quickly interjected, "If you have the power of nuclear fusion, in these pearls, why wouldn't the tank run forever?"

"You can exhaust the power supply," Bentley explained. "Even Nuclear power plants have to dispose of a spent isotope fuel rod and replace it with a fresh one. Those power plants have numerous rods in an underwater tank at any given time. We're talking about a grain at the center of a pearl. We're also talking about rebuilding the twin turbine diesel engines and building a new alternator out of existing parts that I can find in the area. This is a pretty big project for two people and two or three pearls would run this tank for a solid month, maybe more."

"I do not condone this," Carmelita replied, shaking her head slowly. "You have no idea how much I'm biting my tongue back from lashing out at you guys. We beat Clockwerk with a chopper before. I doubt we need much more than that."

"First of all," Bentley said, growing frustrated, "Your diatribe won't be productive. Second of all, he was rebuilt using the latest theoretical technology. You were fighting an archaic flying machine that was older than modern technology! This tank won't even be able to do anything more than distract him!"

"Then if we can't beat him, why waste your time on it?" Carmelita groaned. "We'll find another way to get him!"

Penelope, seeing that this situation had the potential to escalate beyond its own means, was quick to lift her paws as a gesture of quiet to the room. "I've been toying with a plan B. Bentley and I could have this tank finished in 3 days with Murray helping us to lift the heavy components. From there, we would rest a day, then on the 5th day, we'd begin figuring out how to hack Clockwerk. He's a computer now, so there must be a way to load him up with a computer virus!"

Bentley blinked twice and turned to grin at her. Using his bionic legs, he approached the mouse and wrapped his arms around her, kissing the side of her face. It was obvious that he was impressed and now she was at a loss for words, grinning inwardly and smiling awkwardly at best, on the outside.

"My job is to get the pearls; Penelope uses an RC machine to obtain these dangerous chemicals," Sly continued aloud, adding, "But what about Carmelita? She's on our side, here."

Carmelita smirked. "I am until I get my job back. Then I give Sly an ultimatum and we figure things out from there. He knows what his choices are. Now, I've got to go and collect myself. You guys do what you do and figure everything out." She reached her paw beneath Sly's muzzle, scritching at his chin then she quickly flicked her wrist, surprising him with a light slap across the side of his snout. "…Criminal." Then she sauntered across the warehouse until she found an old staircase adjacent to an empty Elevator shaft.

"Inspector Fox?" Said the man on the other line. Carmelita closed her eyes for a moment, sighing softly. "Inspector, I believe you. I was suspended from control of my own precinct for a pending investigation into something that they won't even tell me about. It's all a bunch of hocus pocus."

"Chief," Carmelita said into the phone receiver. She paused to collect her thoughts then continued with, "There is another side to this. Sly Cooper is trying to stop Clockwerk again. These guys that are running Interpol now have rebuilt him and I have reconnaissance pictures that I've sent to your personal email address, just so that it's not traced by Interpol."

"What is it with the Cooper thieves and Clockwerk's black market operations that those two are always butting heads?" The chief wondered aloud. "It sounds nefarious. What are Cooper's intentions here?"

Miss Fox grumbled softly. She frowned then cleared her throat and told the chief, "The gang plans to steal something from a history museum in Moscow. They're convinced it can be used as a weapon and possibly as a method of fuel for a stolen Russian Tank. It was procured in Prague, Sir. Cooper's intentions are good but I can't let him go stealing stuff to use against Clockwerk. Can't we do this legally?"

"There is no 'legally' this time," The man said on the other line. She could hear the hiss-crackle of a match being struck then the short succession of toke noises from the chief lighting his cigar. "When the criminals are running Interpol, they're the ones enforcing the law their own way. You know your job is to uphold justice. I have no power to tell you to do this by any means possible, just like you technically have no power to do anything about any of this."

"What're you saying, Chief?" She asked.

"Carmelita," The Chief was the one to pause, this time. He took a long pull on the cigar then released the smoke in a nasal exhale that resembled a sigh of partial confusion. "It's like this," He added, adlibbing as he went. "Do you know what BLACK OPS is, Inspector Fox?"

"Black Operations is a division that has government orders to fulfill a mission, where the normal legislative law does not apply to their mission's battlefield." Carmelita's reply was a near-Textbook answer. She didn't care for groups that could operate outside of legal standards, either.

"President Jacques Chirac will be up for re-election next year, in 2007. If news of Interpol's infiltration is leaked to the public, it won't look good on France, let alone the old Secretary General, an African Man who runs the police in South Africa. No one even knows he's been replaced yet. Interpol's main headquarters, located here in France, is in a state of confusion. I've been contacted by President Chirac personally. He feels that this could be the start of something larger than we're ready for."

"Like what?" Carmelita scoffed. She didn't personally care for the president. There was always something fishy about him and he was known to flip-flop on issues and stances, where she was always the kind of woman to stand behind her personal decisions to the very end.

"Like the end of the 5th Republic? I don't know, he won't say," The Chief mused, smiling at his joke which could be heard in the way he was speaking. "At any rate, he was a good mayor, if you ask me."

"Eighteen years as Mayor of Paris doesn't impress me. However, I'd much sooner prefer him back as Mayor of Paris again." Carmelita simply frowned. She couldn't stand people who were quick to change their minds over something and was chorused by, statistically, half of France.

"Carmelita, you were a little girl when he was Mayor," The Chief reminded her. "Do you even remember anything before 1995? Ah, but it doesn't rightly matter. I like him, he's a fine President," Said the Chief, taking another toke on the cigar. "He's unsure as to why I was let go in my duties over Paris. He's a sentimental man about this City. He's given me an unofficial means to put this behind us. Once it's solved and everyone is safe, he'll most likely give a Press Conference. He'll explain that something came up, it was foiled and it will look good for all of us. What happens in a museum in Moscow won't concern him and I have no right, nor does he, to tell an Interpol Agent what to do; especially one who is suspended. Anything you might do he would have to disavow all knowledge, so you can't get caught."

Carmelita was quick to get back to business. "Chief, with all due respect… let's cut to the chase, Sir. Should I help Cooper and his gang or should I walk away from this, with my tail attached and my neck intact?"

"Do what you can to help Cooper's gang," The Chief said. "If they cross the line, you'll be standing at their side the minute this ends, with full rights and privileges of an Inspector granted to you once more. Then you make the decision to lock him up or pardon him. This is a special one-time pardon. If he isn't stealing priceless things and breaking the law, he will have earned that pardon. He was a pretty good Constable if I recall to last year."

"Yes," Carmelita agreed. "He was a fine Constable. But I will tell you this," She continued. "I don't care for that balding poodle that we elected, not one little bit. I'm doing this to stop Clockwerk and because Sly Cooper is in danger and for once, he's not broken any laws since his amnesia pardon that I am aware of. So I'm helping him as an innocent who is unofficially been dubbed as a deputy. Anything you would like me to tell him?"

The Chief switched the phone to his other ear, stubbing out his cigar on the other end of the line. Carmelita knew the old dog's habits and smiled inwardly to herself. He was so very predictable. "If he returns to the force, I'll consider him for Captain if he defeats Clockwerk without stealing supplies. Although, you may remember what happened to the last Constable who was promoted to Captain… So don't expect me to make good on that unless he does something extraordinary."

The vixen gave an audible sigh, glancing at her watch. "Something tells me he's not going to join the police again. But anything is possible. I've lamented his decision to leave last year. I plan to head back to the Prague Bank and search for clues, as well. I don't want to be part of this heist. It sickens me. I'll let you know when I have something else to report." She disconnected the satellite phone and packed it into her flack gear, glaring at the wall, battling her pent up frustration. There was no one to lash out at, in this room.

"You're leaving?" Sly asked, somewhat surprised. "Aren't you going to help us fight Clockwerk?"

"That won't happen right away," Carmelita replied. "I've got things to do; work to complete. You know I take my job seriously. Go steal your stupid plutonium pearls and we'll meet up when I'm finished. From there, we'll head to Russia. How long will it take to finish this tank?"

Bentley pushed his glasses up his nose, speaking up. "Uhm, first of all, they're not plutonium. They're Uranium and –" He found himself cut off with a dismissive wave of her paw, followed by a sort of grin on her muzzle. She then waved him to continue. Bentley just blinked then replied with a sort of chuckle, adding, "Okay, I estimate an overnight job, but to be safe, I'd say 36 hours."

The vixen gave a shrug, following it with a nod. "You've got your thirty-six hours. Sly will steal the pearls, you and Penelope will see to the tank's completion. I'm going back to the bank building to search for clues to make a case that will clear my name. Has anyone seen Donovan Loupe?"

"Should we send Murray with you?" Sly asked. "He'd be able to protect you. No one has seen Donovan, so who knows whose side he's even on."

"I'm NOT trying to keep associating with CRIMINALS, so GO and STEAL your stupid pearls and we'll follow the PLAN, all right?" She shouted, clinching her paws into fists and narrowing her eyes. Sly just folded his arms across his chest and smiled. Carmelita set her jaw tightly, raking her gaze over him. "Why are you grinning so smug, Cooper?"

"It's because you've got such intensity in your eyes when you're upset. It's rather becoming of you, Carmelita," Sly replied calmly with an air of flirting in his tone. "We're all on the same boat here; do you want one of us to go with you? It will increase your chances of making it out there by whatever number Bentley can count to."

"No, I'll be fine on my own. See you tomorrow," She said, giving a half wave, heading for the door. She wanted more than anything to look over her shoulder at Sly one last time but she kept her willpower strong and shut the door behind herself, heading for the old apartment building stairs. She felt strong of will to simply ignore him. Normally she was unable to even do anything without watching him over her shoulder.

Once she was gone, Penelope turned to Sly, a frown marring her delicate white features. "She's going to run into that guy you mentioned and he's going to have her come back here and shoot us all."

Sly shook his head slowly. "When she was unconscious, I put the pendant of Willpower on her wrist and pushed it up her arm, under her shirt sleeve. Carmelita's willpower blows my own out of the water. You should have seen Contessa struggle with her. Sire won't see the bracelet on her forearm and when he goes after her, she'll kick his tail. I personally hope they meet."

"The probability is rather high in the numbers," Bentley chimed in. "I would say more than 99percent probability," He noted to the group. "That's why we shouldn't send anyone with her. They'll be in more trouble because Sire will use them to fight her, since he seems like he can't fight, personally."

"Well, heck… then I guess I stand corrected and Carmelita knows what she's doing," Sly chuckled softly. "I don't think she's realized that she's wearing that bracelet just yet. As long as Sire doesn't know, should he approach her, then we're all going to have one less bad guy to worry about."

Bentley gave a firm nod, taking a pencil out and, instead of writing out a plan with it, he used the rubber eraser to mash the 'power' button on his laptop that was sitting nearby. "Right, so let's get this heist plotted and move on it tonight. I've got to send Murray out to grab parts we'll need from a local metal shop that seems to be owned by a group of scumbag mafia thugs anyhow. …Just a shop with ties to some of Prague's darker residents. Sly, you'll be on your own for this; I know it's been a while but if you follow my plan, you'll do fine."

Cooper, in a playful mood after seeing Carmelita blow up in the doorway, placed his cane on the floor, standing it vertically. He then planted his paws on the top and lifted his legs, balancing himself atop of the cane. Lifting his legs further, he finally placed his feet, side by side, on the top of the hook's arch. Then he stood up, preening gracefully. The balancing raccoon was now just showing off, half wishing Carmelita would walk back in through the door at any moment.

"Sly, c'mon now," Bentley grumbled. "You've got to head to Russia and be ready for a shift change. The bullet train, according to the internet, will be leaving in 18 minutes and you'll need a disguise. You'll be getting off in Moscow only a block from the museum. I need at least 4 pearls, just incase. Get more if you're able."

"Maybe we can volunteer Donovan to help with the heist, if I can find him," Sly chuckled.

A voice came out of thin air and a figure began to take form, stepping out from underneath the tank with a liquid-like grace. "I'm still nursing my aggravated chest burns but I think, in consideration of your noble efforts, there is enough of a reason to justify such un-noble actions concerning these pearls."

"It's not un-noble," Sly said calmly, as if he had been talking to Donovan the entire time without even an inkling of surprise in his voice. "These pearls are owned by a scumbag and on display for all the wrong reasons. We don't steal from anybody who has good intentions, pal."

"I'll see you there, when the time is necessary for me to show myself. Until then," Donovan replied softly, disappearing once more into the shadows from which he came. A moment of silence passed before Bentley broke it.

"Ah, yes. So, you've got a train to catch and the snow is going to make things difficult. Get going, Sly!" The turtle said.

"I'm going, I'm going," Sly chuckled, dismounting the incredibly balanced cane. He first put his paws down on the cane's hook-arch, between his feet, then kicked his legs up in the air, doing a hand stand. His left leg extended gracefully, doing a near split in mid-air. He arched his back and leaned forward, until his left foot came to touch the floor the way a well practiced cartwheel might look. He leaned into the step and began walking, while twirling his cane upwards and onto his shoulder.

Just like that, he headed for the door, then he paused much the way Carmelita had. Cooper glanced over his shoulder, grinned at Penelope and Bentley and gave a shrug. "Any gear?"

"Weapons and Gear are OSP," Bentley mused with a frown. "We're running low on gear right now. On Site Procurement is the only option. It's been a long time without practice. That Interpol job was hard but this is going to have a room full of live guards. Just be careful."

"You know I've still got it. Stealing is like riding a bike, Bentley," Sly explained with a friendly smile offered. "And before you say anything, Donovan," Cooper continued, as if the wolf was still in the room, "The difference between kleptomania and myself is simple: I steal because I want to, not because of a compulsion. 'In the blood' isn't (the same as) 'in the mind'. See you in Moscow, wherever you are." And with that, Sly passed through the door and into the cold.

Carmelita had her paws clinched tightly. She was still wearing the two duffle bags across her chest but the straps had been replaced from earlier. Now the burgundy bag's strap was on the military-green bag and vice-versa. The vixen grumbled to herself about Sly Cooper as she approached the half-collapsed building. Prague police had the area closed off, donning their heavy winter gear and looking fairly miserable. Actually, it was just a few patrol cars and a ranking detective on guard. The pin on his lapel told his rank and nothing more.

Carmelita pulled her worthless faux badge out and reattached it to her collar, approaching one of the detectives on the scene. It would take hours to verify that she was suspended and these guys probably didn't speak French. She flashed her badge to a weasel in charge and nodded politely.

He couldn't help but note the odd way in which she was dressed and the two equipment bags strapped over her shoulders, resting on her hips. After a moment of looking her over, the weasel gave a slow nod, offering a glove-shrouded paw. Matching boots adorned his feet and a skullcap was pulled down over his ears and the side of his face with the fabric folded upwards in the front which rested over his brow.

Carmelita licked her lips apprehensively, slowly beginning the conversation in her shaky version of the native language. The Detective, surprisingly, did know French. He lifted a paw with a friendly, yet weary smile and replied, "You are Interpol Agent, correct? I am being very pleased to make your acquaintance, Agent."

Carmelita breathed a sigh of relief. His French skills were horrible, but the fact that he spoke French was a relief. But before the conversation could grow deeper, someone approached the both of them behind, placing a paw on her shoulder. The voice scared her deep down in her chest, while her body grew tense and ready for confrontation.

The Sire, of all people, spoke calmly to her. "My, you're both raping my language. Modern French doesn't quite have the same beauty it had when I was a young man. I'm surprised to see an agent with your status at a crime scene, my dear."

Carmelita closed her eyes. "That's because you're older than you look, right?" She was terrified, angry and yet she had to keep it cool. If she attacked him here, there would be too many cops with guns for her to survive. "I'm doing my job, Secretary General. Are you here to stop me or to help me?" Her voice held a bit of challenge to it. Obviously, his powers were not yet engaged.

"Oh, your secret is quite safe with me," Sire whispered right into her ear. His voice was cooler than normal body temperature and it sent an eerie chill down her spine unmatched by the winter, itself. She leaned back, pushing her shoulder against his chest to put distance between them.

"Let me assure you," Carmelita began, "You do not have friends in France, pal. Also, let me just tell you that your involvement in this whole ordeal is way over your head." Her first mention was directed towards the Government and the second mention of the ordeal being over his head was directed at what she'd learned while in Limbo.

Sire shook his head slowly, still standing behind her. "The only one in over her head is you, Agent Fox."

"Don't stand so close to me," Carmelita muttered. The Czech Detective frowned thoughtfully, watching the quiet altercation. Inspector Fox turned to face the effeminate feline, keeping her eyes partially averted. She then said, "Clockwerk isn't the only one involved in all of this. I know a few things that may surprise you. Karla is down; I heard Steven was dispatched as well. Things got a little too 'hot' for Donovan and Clockwerk flew the coupe. As far as Nagan or whoever that freak is, you don't control him."

"Nagan?" Sire blinked, shaking his head with a chuckle. "The only Nagan I know is a Babylonian fairytale and it was a female who played the harp. This isn't a story book, Agent Fox. You're standing here in the lion's den, my dear. Literally."

"Sad," Carmelita replied. When The Sire lifted his eyebrows in question, she continued. "You don't even know that you're being manipulated far better than your own natural gift of persuasion. What irony. Turns out you're just a pawn over the peasants. You wanna finish this right now? I'll get you. And I'll show you just what the hardliner Interpol Brass thinks of your leadership."

"Detective," Sire said calmly. His eyes shifted, glancing about furtively. The majority of police were inside the ruins, searching for survivors with the help of the fire department. The weasel was doing a cross shift of looking for outside clues while standing as traffic duty. The three of them were alone for a moment. Once the detective looked up, Sire said, "Draw your firearm and dispatch this assassin."

Before the Weasel could completely remove the gun from his holster, Carmelita had turned about, snatching his wrist in her paws. She put her right foot between his ankles, using her free paw to put him off balance, shifting her weight hard to slam him onto his back. Simultaneous to the Czech Cop crashing into the snow, Carmelita spun back around, holding the detective's handgun.

She flipped her thumb over the hammer, cocking the Taurus brand pistol, leveling the weapon into The Sire's face. The astonishingly-delicate features of the Lion's face contorted into a momentary show of concern. A soft frown marred his perfect visage. He was a beautiful man, possessing an unearthly aura of astatically pleasing expressions. His facial features could melt nearly any heart but Carmelita was too resolved in her sense of justice and law.

Only one man could catch her heart and The Sire wasn't that man. However, even Sly Cooper couldn't bring her to change how she felt about injustice. She's had no problems shooting at Sly in the past and she would have no qualms about shooting at The Sire, here and now. The lion's soft, complex orbs gazed down the length of the handgun barrel. "There's no need for that, put the gun away, Carmelita Fox."

"What happened to Agent Fox?" Carmelita said with a smirk. She began to squeeze her finger over the trigger. A gunshot rang out, swallowed by the snowfall. No echo was heard, only a quick and sudden crack-sound which rang out in the night. To Carmelita's surprise, it wasn't her weapon. In fact, the weapon she held wasn't even in her paws any longer. It was in the snow several feet away, with a bullet lodged in the side of the barrel.

Her paw began to sink and her head craned to the side. A Wolfdog with a handgun stood twenty yards away with the weapon in his extended left paw. His right paw seemed to end at his wrist, with brown-tinted gauze tape wrapped around the end. The deadly accurate shot had come from the sniper that had lost his paw to The Reaper prior to now. However, this man was still on The Sire's pay roll.

Carmelita's moment of shock didn't last long but even so, during that short repose, the gunner was quick enough to have placed his own gun into his muzzle and pull a silencer out of his pocket. He fixed the silencer on with his left paw, screwing it down onto the barrel's end. He then took the weapon back into his left paw and aimed it at Carmelita. "What are your orders, m' liege?" The man asked.

"Are you kidding me?" Carmelita snapped, narrowing her eyes. "I've escaped near-hell and all that seven deadly sins crap to be in the crosshairs of an old fashion minion with a steady paw?"

"What would you know of the Deadly Sins, Agent Fox?" The Sire sneered. "You're rather intimate with nearly all of them, so it's obvious you don't know how to avoid them. Wrath: every time you lose a suspect and take it out on the next catch? Lust for Sly Cooper, Sloth to actually catch your most important prey; Greed for wanting to keep him to yourself. And let us not forget Pride in your badge. Oh, it must be killing you to be suspended. And what of Envy for anyone that might be able to catch him before you do? Six out of Seven, Agent Fox. Not bad," Cackled the lion in a sickeningly gleeful manner.

The Inspector simply blinked. "I'm hardly consumed by all those things," She protested. "Greed for Sly? And Envy? Maybe they are possibilities and I'm working on my anger but… Wait a second; I don't need to explain myself to you, Criminal!"

"No, Carmelita. You've broken the law by interfering with an official police investigation," The Sire said. His gunman held still, keeping the crosshairs trained on the side of her head. Sire added, "You, my dear; you're the criminal, Carmelita Fox. Go and arrest yourself."

"Excuse me!" Carmelita shouted, clinching her fists tightly.

"My word, you're having nothing more than an emotional moment," Sire said. The Detective slowly stood up, pulling out a pair of handcuffs from his belt. The injured gunner approached, flanking the vixen slowly. Sire offered a brilliant smile. That dazzling, handsome smile caused Carmelita to look away, feeling awkward. He then announced, "Good work, men. Lock her up and place her under arrest. Make sure her rights are read to her and place her in solitary confinement. I want her locked up; wrists, ankles and tail. I'll come to visit her shortly."

A/N: DUNN dun DUNNNN! Okay, we have a lot coming up in the next chapter! As we can see, Carmelita is now bottling her emotions and I don't know how much longer before she blows her metaphorical top. A lot is about to happen. Carmelita has a stand off with The Sire, as he has plans to confront her in a jail cell! Sly has a sneaky heist ahead of him! Clockwerk is nearly at full power and will be facing the Cooper Gang on his own terms and conditions soon. Donovan is injured and Sly will be working with minimal help. Murray has a job to complete and Bentley and Penelope will be working closely together with the chance to grow together, the way that has been implemented at the end of Sly3. Will it all happen with a positive outcome? Now that Carmelita has been granted an unofficial pardon from her old Chief and the President of France, provided she takes down The Sire, how far will she go to complete her mission? Will her first real taste of attacking the legal justice system drag her into guilt or glory? Will she overcome the nagging despair that's nestled in her chest or will Depression drag her down? These are the questions that will be answered from here on out!

Finally, will Carmelita be able to take this knowledge that she'd garnished in Limbo and stop Clockwerk and destroy the Cooper engagement pendant? It's the only way to ensure that evil isn't reborn any time in the near future. Will she succeed? We'll know soon!

-kit